The Poking of the Ranger
by Amaris Ethne
Summary: Aragorn can't sleep, Boromir is having nasty dreams and Gimli is drooling. Written while bored. Just something weird and funny. Please R&R (slash implied)


The Poking of the Ranger  
  
With a heavy sigh Aragorn rolled over on his bedroll. Something was poking him and no matter how he turned the object insisted upon maintaining its current position of poking him in the ass. Aragorn tossed again, and again the object poked him.  
  
"Aw, bloody hell!"  
  
~*~  
  
Legolas sat perched upon a low branch in a tree looking out over the land. It was a night in which even Gimli the Dwarf could have taken a turn at the watch; the full moon lit the whole of Middle Earth as if it were day. But it was nothing for Legolas to stand watch and, knowing Dwarfs, Gimli would probably miss noticing a rampage of wild Orcs. So, Legolas sat, looking down upon the peaceful Fellowship. He noted with a smile the way Sam shifted closer to Frodo in his sleep. Gimli slept cradling his axe in the same odd manner in which Lord Elrond cradles the purple bunny that he stole from the twins two millennia ago. A river of spit flowed down the Dwarf's beard from the corner of his open mouth and the sounds that evicted that orifice could have drown out that rampage of wild Orcs. Merry slept on his front side, his bum sticking up in the air like a target for Legolas's skilled bow. For a moment the bored Elf contemplated a little late night target practice, but decided that he did not want to receive a lecture from Gandalf for acting like a fool while he should be doing something important. Pippin had got lectured numerous times already. The usually folly Hobbit lay not far from his target-assed friend, arms crossed over his chest and murmurs of food and ale coming from his mouth. Gandalf the Grey and Boring Lecturer was curled into a fetal position, the pointed hat miraculously still upon his head. Legolas wondered for a moment how he managed that one. His staff was still clutched in his hand. Boromir laid close to the Wizard, flat on his front with legs spread wide. Mumbling of "oh yeah" and "right there baby" floated on the warm breeze. Legolas decided it was best not to disturb him. Next the Elf focused his attention upon Aragorn. The Ranger was tossing and turning. *No doubt, * thought Legolas, *he is still wearing his sword, though the sheath is now hanging toward the back. And it appears that the point is quite close to his...* Legolas's thought was interrupted by the whispered curse of the man. *Ah, it is poking him there. I wonder how long it will take him to notice. * Legolas watched his friend toss and turn for another ten minutes before finally deciding to get down from his tree and help.   
  
"Aragorn, Aragorn, it is your sword. You are lying on your sword." He whispered. Aragorn grunted in his sleep and rolled over.  
  
"Aragorn, you have a very large sword. And your sheath has moved. It is what is now poking you and making you uncomfortable." Boromir, apparently hearing this, made a low moan and his mumbling began to change.  
  
"That's right, baby. Stick the sword in. Yeah! That's right. Stick your sword in my sheath and I'll do the same. Oh, oh, right there..." Legolas cringed. *That* was the man who carried the horn of Gondor? The race of Man was doomed. Aragorn, on the other hand rolled over to face Legolas and continued his fitful sleep. With a sigh, Legolas kneeled down beside his friend and gently shook him.  
  
"Aragorn, wake up. You are going to cut your ass open onr of these times." Again, Boromir moaned. Now Legolas saw why Lord Elrond placed so little confidence in Man. The Elf Prince shook Aragorn again. Aragorn grunted and scotched closer to his friend. Another shake, and Aragorn began to spoon Legolas who was becoming increasingly worried.   
  
"Aragorn, your large sword is poking you in the ass. And, no, don't get closer. Don't you remember the last time we did that?" Legolas whispered. Aragorn didn't answer, just rubbed up against the Elf. Legolas sighed. *Well, I guess Elladan isn't here to walk in this time. * Legolas decided. He shook his friend again, and this time the Ranger awoke.   
  
"What the...Legolas, what are you doing? Don't you remember the last time we did that? Elladan almost killed me with my own sword!"  
  
"Well, it was your fault you didn't lock your chamber door. But never mind that. The sword that Elladan threatened to kill you with is what is keeping your sleep from being peaceful."  
  
"What the sodding hell are you talking about?"  
  
"It is what is poking you in the ass." Legolas restated calmly. Aragorn looked confused for a moment before reaching behind him and realising that it was true.  
  
"Oh. Thank you my friend."  
  
"You are very welcome. You have a large sword, Aragorn. I would hate to see it hurt you." Aragorn, who was in the middle of undoing his sheath stopped and starred at the Elf in amazement.  
  
"Oh, you mean this sword. Yes, it is long." He stuttered, realising his second mistake in so many minutes. Legolas smiled and scooted closer.  
  
"Well...that one too." He whispered, running his hand over the Rangers chest and stopping just above his, well, sword. Aragorn moaned and Boromir, still asleep, mimicked it. Aragorn raised an eyebrow.  
  
"He is having himself a wet dream." Legolas explained. Aragorn grabbed Legolas and pushed him onto the ground.  
  
"How 'bout we make one of my dreams a reality?" Legolas smirked and wiggled under him.  
  
"No Elladan to walk in this time."  
  
"Legolas, you shall have my sword."  
  
"And you my bow."  
  
"Ooh. You gonna shoot one of your arrows at me?"   
  
"Two at a time, Aragorn, two at a time."  
  
"I've seen some Elves do three."  
  
"As you wish, oh King of the Long Swords."  
  
~*~  
  
The next morning Boromir woke up warm and sticky and wondered how the hell *that* dream came around.   
  
The End  
  
Thanks for reading! Please Review! 


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